


Sold

by Nitroid



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 04:18:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11959551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitroid/pseuds/Nitroid
Summary: Abducted by a trafficking ring and put up for sale, Kise finds himself at the mercy of Aomine.





	Sold

Kise winced as he was dragged out onto the large stage by the jangling steel leash attached to the leather spiked collar around his neck. The grimy man leading him along like a caught animal gave him a nasty knowing grin.

“And here we have a prize item of the night, everyone; feast your eyes on this splendid supple body, this beautiful fair haired boy!”

The man dressed in brightly hued show garb behind the booming microphone cast his right arm towards Kise’s direction, voice covered in a sickly sweet persuasive tone. Large round spotlights instantly flared onto the blond, who flinched at the bright light and raised his arms to shield his face.

“Uh uh.” The man gripping his leash grasped his left shoulder with a hard twist and gave him a good shake. “You’re the star of tonight, boy, give them a good show!”

Kise’s arms were forcibly pushed down and he was shoved toward the center of the stage. The seated audience wore masks of some sort; it was proving horrendously difficult to see any familiar faces in the dark of the crowd.

“Strike a pose, boy!” The grimy man jangled the chain as he hissed the order.

Nervously, Kise slowly ran a hand through his blond locks. He was still feeling groggy; the drink the grimy man had shoved into his mouth was like a sedative enough to tranquilize a large elephant. Though, that had been hours ago. He had slept in a fitful daze throughout the entire journey it had taken for these rough men to transport him to the stage from the horribly cramped and unsanitary apartment he had been held captive in.

“What day is it?” Kise slurred, obediently putting one hand on his hip and leaning his weight onto one side.

His question went unanswered as the man behind the microphone continued his persuasion on the audience. The jarring sounds of voices, the jangling of chains and hushed whispers from the other captives who were probably kept backstage was making Kise’s head swim. The blond boy tried testing his movements; fingers could barely grasp anything let alone twitch, and he was swaying constantly while on his feet, having to rely on the grimy man’s shoulder for support, which he most certainly detested.

Kise’s mind told him his entire body should be well ablaze with panic and adrenaline, throwing him into a fight or flight response; his unusually slow bodily movements stated otherwise.

“…fifty three thousand.”

“Ninety thousand.”

The man behind the mic was elated with the audience’s responsiveness, enthusiasm taking over his gaudily dressed frame like a wild wolf with the promise of raw rabbit.

“Ninety five thousand! Going once, going twice to the man seated in row two!”

Kise swallowed and squinted, trying to make out the face of the person who was bidding. To his strangely slow horror, it was a rather plump, ugly balding man with a greedy glint in his small, reddened eyes.

“Please, no.” Kise backed away, but the grimy man had a grip of iron on his hip, and his thumb stroked spine chilling circles on Kise’s bare skin.

It was then the blond realized with a sinking feeling that he was naked, standing onstage with a crowd of seedy onlookers waving numerous fans that had numbers on them, shouting their bids.

He was being sold.

Microphone man was nodding, rubbing his hands together, making _krrrk krrrk_ noises with his teeth as he looked on appreciatively at the audience.

“Shall we up the price for this prime selection? A fine choice for a good slaveboy, well defined body, good health, a virgin hole, ready for anything you’d like to try him on!”

The crowd went wild, fans waving furiously.

Kise tried to cover his face, but the grimy man prevented him from moving by jerking the leash. He coughed, mind erupting in a sudden flurry of panic. His eyes could focus better now; perhaps the sole good effect of the bright spotlights.

“Hurry, the drugs are easing off.” The grimy man snarled at microphone man.

“Five hundred thousand.” A quiet, deep voice announced his price from the bickering crowd.

Jaws dropped and heads turned in surprise and envy. A black gloved hand raised a fan with the number five on it.

Dead silence from the audience.

“Sold, to the man in row five!” Microphone man was rubbing his hands together so hard; Kise could almost see the smoke rising from them.

Murmurs from the crowd.

Kise utilized the welcome distraction to grab the leash with both hands and yank the grimy man toward him, before rearing his head back and snapping forward to entrust his skull with the hard collision.

Grimy man staggered backwards blindly.

Turning on his heel, Kise ignored the throbbing in his head and dived immediately into the stunned crowd, making a beeline for the neon green sign at the farthest row that read exit in glorified words.

"He's getting away!"

"Guards!"

Microphone man was helping grimy man to his feet, but Kise was on a roll; adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He barely streaked past row five, stark naked and balls slapping against his inner thighs, before a strong arm grabbed him and held his arms to his torso in a firm hold.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” The deep voice Kise had heard bid on him earlier sent nerves tingling all over his body. “I’m glad I found you.”

Kise turned to meet the other male’s steady gaze with a frustrated glare. His heart was thumping hard against his ribcage, he could feel the blood pumping through his veins. He blinked and felt a hot blush creep up his neck; the man holding him was incredibly handsome, tall and dark, not necessarily in that order.

“I’m Aomine.” A gloved hand stroked his cheek gently and traced a circle under Kise’s chin, almost lovingly. “Come home with me.”


End file.
